High Hurdles Collection Two

by Lauraine Snelling

“You said not to leave the stall, but then we couldn’t get help and you said you was in a hurry and—”

  DJ held up a hand to stop the flood of words. Yelling at them wouldn’t do any good or be fair. “Let’s get this dumped so you can load fresh shavings while I feed the horses.”

  “You gonna help us?”

  “Yup, I’ll wheel the barrow.”

  When the mess was cleaned up and dumped, she left them loading the wheelbarrow with fresh shavings. “Now stay here. You got that?”

  “Yes, but we—”

  “No, fill this and then stay.” She felt as though she were giving a dog instructions. Sit. Stay. Down, boy.

  She filled the water buckets with fresh water, measured the grain, and refilled both horses’ hay slings. When she returned to the shavings mound, the twins had filled the wheelbarrow and were now rolling in the fresh shavings, scattering them out to get wet and trampled when it rained again.

  Another sigh. “Okay, now sweep those shavings back up in the pile. We don’t want to waste any.” They did as told, glancing at her out of the corners of their eyes. Flushed red cheeks told of their fun. A shavings curl clung to one blue stocking cap. Bits of shavings decorated their jackets, pants, and boots. She needed a broom to sweep them off.

  “How would you like a ride back?” She almost looked around to see who had said that. Here she was trying to be firm with them, and her mouth played tricks on her.

  At the delight on their faces, let alone their squeals, she was glad her mouth sometimes did things on its own. Only problem was that too often it got her in trouble.

  She lifted the boys to the top of the wheelbarrow and with a grunt got the thing going and trundled back to the stalls. She dumped the boys out with the shavings, making them laugh and shout again.

  “You spread that around and I’ll go get Major and Ranger. Put some in Ranger’s stall, too.” Both horses nickered for her when she approached the hot walker. Was there any better sound than a horse nickering a greeting?

  Halfway home, thoughts of Robert made her slow, then stop pedaling. What if he got all bent out of shape because she took the boys to the Academy? But he hadn’t said she couldn’t. But then, she hadn’t asked. Now what should she do?

  “Why we stopping?” one of the Bs asked, looking up at her.

  “Uh, you know what? How about not telling your dad about going to the Academy on the bikes until I have a chance to talk to him.”

  The boys looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Okay?”

  “ ’Kay.”

  Later, just as she was serving the tacos, DJ heard tires screeching and the Bronco roaring into the drive.

  “Daddy’s home!” The boys bailed off their chairs and raced to the front door.

  “Bobby, Billy, thank God you are all right.” Robert came into the dining room with a boy under each arm. “DJ, where were you?”

  She looked up from putting cheese into a taco shell. “Here, why?” Uh-oh, trouble in town. His face looked like a thunderstorm had taken up residence.

  “I called and called here, and no one answered. I thought something had happened to all of you.”

  The boys squirmed until he set them down. They looked up at him, then to DJ. “We’s fine, Daddy.”

  “I see that. Darla Jean?”

  “We rode over to the Academy to take care of the horses. I asked Amy to do it, but she had to go to her grandma’s and there wasn’t anyone else.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “You said you had an important meeting. I didn’t want to bother you.” DJ wanted to stamp her feet and yell right back at him. “If I’d known in advance, I could have made other arrangements, but …”

  Robert swept his hair back with the palm of his hand. “DJ, don’t you understand that you and the boys are more important to me than any meeting?” He took in a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Thank God the traffic was light on the San Mateo bridge, or I’d have run right up and over the cars. I almost called the police to come by here and check on the house to see if it was still standing.” He swiped his hand over his hair again. “I even called your mother to see if she knew anything.”

  DJ felt like a huge fist socked her in the gut. Now I’m in for it. “I … I’m sorry. I did what I thought best.”

  “We helped DJ at the barn.”

  “We cleaned Major’s stall. …”

  “And Ranger’s, and we …”

  “Spilled the ’nure and …”

  “Played in the shavings …”

  “And rode the bikes …”

  “And how come …

  “You yelled at DJ?” The two advanced on their father like miniature bulldogs.

  “Whoa.” Robert took a step backward. He held up his hands, palms out to ward them off.

  “DJ gave us a ride in the barrel. …”

  “And Major snuffed my hair—”

  “Barrel?” Robert looked at the boys, then DJ.

  “Wheelbarrow?” DJ asked.

  They nodded … hard.

  “Can we have a barrel, Daddy?”

  Robert nodded, his lips reluctantly curving in a grin. “I think we have three or four of them on my jobs. We’ll have one at the new house.”

  “And the barn and a pony and Major and—” The boys danced around the room.

  “Hey, guys, your dinner is ready. Come and eat.” DJ set their plates at their places. “You want tacos?” She looked up at Robert.

  “Sure. I was supposed to have dinner with the client but …”

  DJ flinched. “Sorry.”

  After he’d taken his place and was dishing up his meal, he looked up at her. “You know, if something like this happens again and you can’t get hold of me, leave a message on the answering machine here and I’ll check for that. Also, you can leave a message on my cell phone, and when I turn it on again, I’ll get it.”

  “Okay. I guess I’m just not used to all that fancy phone stuff.”

  As they finished eating, DJ said, “The boys need to get used to being at the barns, though, if they’re going to show their horses someday.”

  “Horses?” One eyebrow cocked.

  “Sure, two boys, two horses. Otherwise we can’t all ride up in Briones together.”

  “Two horses. Two horses.” Two voices chanted as one.

  The phone rang and Robert answered it. The tone of his voice immediately told DJ it was her mother on the other end. She nodded over her shoulder, and she and the boys picked up their plates and tiptoed out of the room.

  “You guys go watch TV or a video so I can get my homework done.” She motioned them toward their room. “Your dad’ll come for you later.”

  “But, DJ—”

  “No buts.” There they go with their whipped-puppy looks again. DJ kept a stern look on her face. “Come on, guys. If I don’t get my homework done, I’ll never get to ride Major again.”

  “We could ride him for you.”

  “Thanks anyway.”

  “When we gonna dye Easter eggs?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  They looked at her again over their shoulders, as if hoping she had relented.

  She shook her head. Would they never give up? When they finally went in their room, she did the same. The stack of books on her desk hadn’t moved. She threw herself across her bed and let her eyelids drift closed.

  She woke sometime later to Robert shaking her shoulder.

  “You better get in bed, DJ. It’s nearly midnight.”

  She groaned and rolled over. “I only wanted to rest my eyes a few minutes. Now I’ve wasted the whole evening.”

  “You must have needed the sleep. Your mom will be home about noon. I think I’ll take the boys to meet her at the airport. You can come with us or get your stuff done at the Academy so we can dye eggs later in the afternoon.”

  DJ shook her head, trying to wake up enough to be able to answer. “Thought I’d get all my homework done tonight so I wouldn’t have to think abo
ut it this weekend. Guess I better get right home from chores and do that.”

  “Okay. I have one favor, though. I forgot to buy eggs tonight, so could you wait until I get back from the grocery store before you leave in the morning?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll go real early.” He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “I’d go now, but I’m beat.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Night, daughter. Sorry I yelled at you.”

  “That’s okay.” DJ yawned so big she feared her jaw would break. After Robert left the room, she shucked her clothes and, with her eyes refusing to stay open, pulled on her nightshirt and crawled under the covers. She was asleep before she could even turn out her lamp.

  She woke to the phone ringing. When no one answered, she leaped out of bed and dashed into her mother’s empty room. At the same time as she wondered, Where’s Robert? she remembered he was going for eggs. Or at least she thought she remembered him talking about that.

  “Hello.”

  “DJ, this is Bridget. Do not panic. There is nothing wrong.”

  Bridget had read her mind. The sound of her trainer’s voice had sent instant panic surging through DJ, snapping her entirely awake like a bucket of cold water in the face.

  “Okay.”

  “I was wondering if you could be here at nine. Mrs. Johnson will be here, and we could talk with her about selling Patches. I looked at a horse yesterday over in Marin County that might be perfect for her.”

  DJ glanced at the clock. Seven-thirty “Sure I’ll be there, but …” She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. “But why me?”

  Bridget chuckled, a warm sound that made DJ smile inside. “You, ma petite, are the trainer, no?”

  “Yes, but …” She wanted to say “I’m just a kid” but refrained.

  “No buts. This way she can ask you questions about Patches. No one knows that horse like you do.”

  “I’m going to miss him.” DJ realized how true that was as she said the words. Patches was a challenge every day, and she’d learned a lot training him. And his owner.

  “See you at nine.” Bridget hung up before DJ could respond.

  “DJ, where’s Daddy?” a sleepy voice from the doorway asked.

  “And Mommy?”

  “Your dad’s at the grocery store, and Mom’s not back yet. You guys better get your slippers on. It’s cold in here.”

  “You don’t have slippers on.”

  DJ groaned. “Yeah, and my feet are freezing.” She clapped her hands and grabbed at them. “I’m gonna get you if you don’t watch out.”

  They ran shrieking down the hall, giving her time to slip into the bathroom and slam the door shut.

  “And so it is my opinion that you should sell Patches and purchase a horse you could enjoy more.”

  And be safer with. But DJ only nodded when Mrs. Johnson looked at her.

  “Surely this isn’t necessary.” Mrs. Johnson shook her head, looking from Bridget to DJ and back again. “You don’t just sell a horse because he’s spirited, do you? Why, Patches is my friend. He nickers when he sees me coming and …” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, then shifted again when the cast on her arm caused her discomfort.

  Bridget looked from the casted arm up to Mrs. Johnson’s eyes without saying a word.

  “But I’m becoming a better rider, and DJ …” She sent DJ a pleading look.

  “I … I wish we could say something different, but Patches always gives me a hard time, too. When you count them, he’s dumped me more times than you.”

  “And that is only because you have ridden him so little, Mrs. Johnson. Think how much more pleasure you had when you rode the schooling horses.” Bridget leaned forward, elbows on her desk, hands folded.

  “But Patches is mine, the first horse I’ve ever owned.”

  DJ could hear the sorrow in the woman’s voice. And the stubbornness. “What about Andrew?” she asked.

  “Andrew isn’t riding Patches.”

  “No. But he is so frightened for you that he’s back to being afraid of Bandit again, too. He’s worked hard to get over that fear just because he knows how happy it will make you. He was even beginning to look forward to riding up in Briones with all the family.”

  Mrs. Johnson groaned and looked at the floor. The silence in the office made the normal noises of whinnying horses and riders calling to each other seem loud. When she looked up again, sadness dimmed her eyes. “Let me talk to my husband first, okay?”

  Bridget nodded. “Of course. But I want you to know that I have found a horse I think would suit you well. You would be wise to go with me to at least look at it.”

  “Thank you, I guess.” The woman tried to put a smile on her face. “Guess I’ll go give Patches a treat and be on my way, then.” She got to her feet, not standing nearly as erect as when she came in. “See you later.”

  DJ watched her walk out of the room, wishing she could run over and say, “Hey, forget it. We’ll make Patches behave so you can keep him.”

  “This is the best thing to do.” Bridget’s voice carried all the assurance of her years of working with both horses and humans.

  “I guess.” DJ sighed and heaved herself to her feet. “I better go finish up and get home.”

  “Any idea when you will be riding again?”

  “Soon, I hope. This is driving me crazy, and if Mrs. Johnson decides to sell Patches, I won’t have anything to ride.”

  “You want Omega back?”

  DJ thought a moment. Without Patches to train, she would have more time for Major and more time for her homework, too. They had said they’d take care of the rest of her expenses. “I’ll talk with Mom and Robert, but I bet they’ll say no.”

  “That is good.” Bridget pulled out the pencil she always kept tucked in the side of her hair. “It takes a great deal of support, both personal and financial, for a rider to make it into the big time. I am glad to see you are getting that.”

  “Thanks. See ya.” DJ left the office. She could always go back to mucking stalls if she needed to. But teaching and training were much more fun. Maybe once in a while she could take that extra hour and go ride up in Briones. She glanced up at the hills to see fog blanketing the top halves and wisping around the lower trees. Riding into fog like that would be spooky— and fun. She sighed. Two stalls to clean and she was outta there.

  The others weren’t home yet when she got there, so she made her bed and picked up her room before settling down to the stack of homework. She needed to decide on a topic for her history term paper, and another book report was due in English, besides her journal. She hadn’t written in that for three days again. Plus she had two short essays to write. What a fun Saturday this would be.

  She put the algebra book at the bottom of the stack. Robert had agreed to help her with that. And he wasn’t here now.

  So get it done and show him you can do it yourself. There was that bossy little voice again. She tried to ignore it, then slammed her English book closed and jerked out the math. If that little voice was indeed the Holy Spirit prompting her like Gran said, maybe she’d better learn to listen.

  “Heavenly Father, you know how much I ha—ah, dislike algebra. Please help me get this stuff into my head and then keep it there. My verse says ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,’ and I am trying to believe that. Even algebra, huh?” She waited. How come that little voice came at other times but not when she wanted an answer?

  “Thanks, I guess.” She scrunched her mouth back and forth. “Amen.”

  She could hear Robert’s voice in her ear. “Now, read very carefully right from the beginning and then read it again. You can understand this. I know you can.”

  By the time she heard the twins come yelling “DJ!” through the front door, she’d finished her algebra—with questions for Robert on two of the problems and one principle—caught up on her journal, and roughed out one essay.

  She rose and stretched, locking her hands high above her he
ad and twisting so she could pull all the kinks out. “I’m up here.”

  The two rocketed through the door. “Come on, we get to dye Easter eggs.”

  “Mommy said you make bee-ew-tiful eggs. Come on.”

  They grabbed her hands and pulled her out the door.

  DJ pretended to dig in her heels. “Help, I’m being kidnapped by munchkins!”

  The rainbow-hued eggs filled two large baskets by the time they quit. The plastic-covered table looked like they’d had a dye fight. Stickers lay in puddles of dye, and wax crayons were worn to the nub. Robert held a blue egg up to the light.

  “You think it could use a sticker or two?”

  “Good luck.” Lindy brought a sponge from the kitchen.

  Billy or Bobby peeled a basket sticker off his sweat shirt. “Here’s one.”

  DJ pointed to the cups of dye. “You guys dump those in the sink and I’ll—”

  “No. I think they’ve dumped enough.” Robert looked over the tops of his glasses to the twins. They giggled.

  “Only tipped one cup over.”

  “And that was an accident.”

  “Oh sure. I think you did it on purpose.”

  “Daddy.” Hands on hips.

  “Okay, I’ll dump the dye and you guys pick up the stuff.” DJ swept the littered table with an open hand.

  “Save the stickers,” said Bobby—at least, DJ thought it must be Bobby since he usually spoke first and liked to save things.

  Lindy groaned. “I don’t think so. I’ll bring the trash bag and you can dump things right in it.”

  When the dining room looked normal again, even with the silk tulips in a vase in the center of the table, they all gathered in the family room, the adults with coffee and the kids with sodas.

  “I have news for all of you,” Lindy said, leaning back against the sofa and smiling at Robert.

  “What?” He smiled back.

  They’re going to get mushy again. DJ rolled her eyes so far up that she caught a glimpse of her eyebrows.

  “I announced last night at the meeting that I am taking a leave of absence, so I’ll be home to take care of the boys.” She smiled at the twins. “Starting Monday.”

  “You can do that?” DJ blurted out.